Filch's First Year
by Setsuna529
Summary: How did a Squib like Argus Filch ever make it to Hogwarts? What is it that Professor Dumbledore saw in him, all those years ago? The truth about Mrs. Norris, and why one shouldn't trust a half-giant like Hagrid. Chapter 2 of 11?, updated periodically.
1. Right of Passage

Chapter 1: Right of Passage

* * *

><p>A small boy of eleven years sat silently at the edge of his chair, gripping the seat tightly in his hands. In the chair next to him sat his mother, primly dressed in a dark suit and pillbox hat. Before them was a large desk, empty save for a small crystal vase, and behind the desk sat an older man with a short, well-kempt beard and a balding pate. The man rubbed his chin and cleared his throat.<p>

"Now then. I'd like you to focus your mind on this vase. In your head, try to imagine yourself pushing it over, or seeing it explode, or watching it turn into a rabbit – or anything at all. Imagine something happening to the vase, and use your mind to will that action to take place."

The boy glanced at his mother uncertainly.

The woman nodded at him. "Go ahead, Gussy. Give it a try."

The boy turned his attention back to the vase on the desk. He pressed his lips together and narrowed his brow in concentration. Without knowing it, all three were holding their breath, waiting, anticipating. The boy's knuckles turned white, and he could feel his forehead begin to throb.

The vase continued to sit upon the desk, undisturbed.

A long moment passed before the man behind the desk finally held up his hand in a halting gesture.

"That's enough, Argus. Please relax."

The boy gasped for breath and slumped back in his chair. His mother looked at him with concern and gave the man a worried look.

"What does it mean, Armando?"

"It means nothing, Alyssa. He merely hasn't shown his true potential. It happens – some wizards can't even light a candle without a wand in their hands. There is nothing for you to worry about."

He rose from his chair and indicated for the boy and his mother to do the same. Argus slid down off of his seat and took his mother's hand.

"But what should I do?" Alyssa implored. "What _can_ I do?"

"All you can do for now is to show patience. He will get his letter, I'll make sure of it." They crossed the room, which was filled with books and strange objects and portraits of old men whose eyes followed them. Armando opened the door, then crouched down to face the boy.

"Good day, Argus. I'll see you in September."

He patted the boy on the shoulder and waved them out of the room. Closing the door, he glanced back towards his desk. There sat the vase, motionless and unremarkable. His right eye twitched, imperceptibly; the vase promptly fell over and rolled off the desk. He blinked, and it reappeared on the desk as if nothing had happened. He blinked again, and it disappeared completely.

* * *

><p>Later that summer, a letter arrived at 144 Prewitt Square, addressed to one Argus Filch. The boy snatched it up excitedly and ran to find his mother.<p>

"Look, Mum! Look, it's here! My letter!"

Alyssa Filch smiled as her son danced around the kitchen with the envelope in his hands. It was a proud moment for any wizarding parent. She put a hand on his head and gently ruffled his hair.

"Go on, Gus. Open it, then."

Argus sat down at the kitchen table and carefully tore open the flap, making sure to keep the wax seal imprinted with the Hogwarts crest intact. He extracted the letter from inside and flattened it out. He read:

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry__Under the direction of Headmaster Armando Dippet_

_Dear Mister Filch,_

_It is my esteemed privilege to inform you of your acceptance at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of the necessary requirements for first-year students. Term begins on September 2. Please respond by owl with confirmation of your enrolment no later than July 31._

_With sincere best wishes,_

_Albus Dumbledore  
><em>_Deputy Headmaster  
><em>_Professor of Transfiguration_

Argus stared at the page and smiled. It was actually happening – he was holding the letter in his hands, he could feel the raised outline of the school crest, he was reading his name on the paper. _Term begins on September 2._ He really was going to become a wizard.

Alyssa looked on over his shoulder. "Let's take a look at what the required materials are this year."

Argus turned now to the second page of the letter, and he and his mother glanced down the list.

"Let's see, plain black work robes… Standard Book of Spells… cauldron, scales… wand…"

"A wand?" Argus gave her a hopeful look.

"Of course. Every wizard needs a proper wand." She kissed him on the head. "I think a trip to Diagon Alley is in order. Why don't we go there tomorrow, Gussy?"

"Yes! Let's go!" Argus leapt out of his chair and bounced around the room, clutching his letter to his heart. Alyssa laughed and knew that her son would be a fine wizard.

* * *

><p>"All right, we have all of your spell books, your robes and potions supplies… what's left?" Alyssa glanced at Argus; she thought her son was going to burst from excitement.<p>

"My wand… I'm going to get MY WAND!" He raced off down the street towards Ollivander's.

"Slow down, Argus!" she chuckled and hurried after. He reached the door of the wand shop and pulled it open, and stood awestruck in the doorway. It was a small, narrow building; behind the front counter stood rows of shelves soaring high above his head, filled with long slender boxes.

"Well, come in, boy," said the shop's kindly proprietor and namesake.

Argus felt a gentle nudge against his back; his mother had caught up to him. He stepped up to the counter and suddenly felt very timid.

"And what is it you're looking for today?"

"A wand," Argus said to the knots in the floorboard.

"It seems you've come to the right place then!" Mr. Ollivander said with an aged wink. "What's your name, boy?"

"Filch, sir. Argus Filch."

"Ahh… yes yes, I recall your father's wand – a 12-inch walnut with dragon heartstring core, I do believe."

Argus looked at his mother inquisitively. She nodded and managed a small smile.

"And yours, my dear – 11-inch holly and hippogriff feather, yes? Still performing well, I hope?"

"Of course – no troubles at all."

Mr. Ollivander nodded. "Good, good… now let's get a measure on this boy of yours, shall we?" He pulled out an enormous caliper and stepped out from behind the counter, eyeing Argus carefully and rubbing his chin, trying to decide where best to start. "Nostrils, I think," he muttered, and set to work taking various measurements of the dimensions of Argus' head. Earlobes, it seemed to Argus, must play a key role in determining one's magical fitness; the old wandmaker spent several minutes admiring his.

At long last Mr. Ollivander laid his caliper on the counter and mused over the indechiperable scratchings he had recorded on a piece of parchment. He retreated into the rows of shelving, mumbling indistinctly.

They waited for what seemed to be an inordinately long period of time before Mr. Ollivander reappeared, carrying several small boxes in his arms. He laid these out on the counter and removed the lids.

"Take a look, see if any of these strike your fancy," he said to Argus, who approached the counter and stood up on his toes to get a good view.

In each box lay a single wand, and all of them quite different from each other. Some were longer, others short; the colour of the wood ranged from a dark, earthy brown to an off-white that looked almost like ivory. They were all so exquisite – how was he supposed to choose?

Argus glanced up at Mr Ollivander; the old man seemed to know his mind.

"The wand chooses its wizard, boy. Which one is speaking to you?"

Argus gingerly ran a finger down the line of wands and back, searching for some kind of feeling, a presence, or… did wands have souls?

His hand settled on a wand that was rich brown in colour with a simple but pleasing design.

"Ten inches, chestnut, hair of a unicorn at its core," Mr Olliavnder told him. "Go ahead, give it a wave."

Argus grasped the wand gently in his hand, as if he were holding some strange and delicate creature; he could feel a very faint tingling in his arm as he did so. He waved it back and forth a few times, imagining a shower of sparks leaving a trail of light in the air.

Mr. Ollivander watched the boy with intense curiosity. "Hmm… how fascinating," he muttered to himself. "Well, how does it feel?"

It felt like the best moment of his life.

"Is that the one you want, Argus?" his mother asked with a strained smile.

He nodded at her with a beaming grin. "Yes, it's perfect."

Mr Ollivander took the wand and replaced it delicately in its box, wrapped the box in paper, and placed it in a slender bag. Money was exchanged, and suddenly the wand was his. His very own wand!

They returned home from shopping, and Argus spent the rest of the afternoon daydreaming about all of the spells he would soon be casting. He laid down on his bed and held the wand in his hand. He could feel the faint tingling again. _That must be the magic inside of me, waiting to escape,_ he thought happily.

Before he went to sleep that night, he tucked his wand back into its box, set it on the nightstand next to him, and wished it goodnight.

* * *

><p>The end of August was suddenly upon them, and it was time for Argus to board the Hogwarts Express and head off to school. Alyssa and Argus walked into the station, pushing a trolley packed with his belongings.<p>

"All right, Argus, see that pillar there? Just walk straight towards it, you'll pass right through and onto the platform for the Hogwarts Express. Wait a minute," his mother instructed. "All right, once this couple passes. Okay, now go!"

Argus took off at a trot. _Straight through the pillar, straight through the pillar,_ he told himself. His stomach was full of butterflies. It was really happening – he was almost there –

Argus took a deep breath and plunged straight into the pillar.

The pillar, however, did not seem to care for such nonsense, and remained stubbornly and solidly brickish.

Argus fell backwards with a startled cry, landing heavily on his backside. A ticket officer took notice and frowned, taking the boy's arm and pulling him to his feet.

"Now look here," the officer said sternly, "What are you playing at? The platform is not a playground for you to go running about. Where's your parents, lad?"

Argus sniffed and pointed to his mother, who was standing aghast by the trolley. The officer marched Argus over to her and doffed his cap.

"Good day, ma'am. I'm afraid you need to keep better watch over your son, lad's likely to get himself hurt, the way he's going on." The officer glanced at their trolley and furrowed his eyebrows. "Right then, can I see some tickets please?"

Alyssa pursed her lips and fumbled around in her handbag for a moment. She then produced two ticket-sized strips of paper that were completely blank on both sides. Argus watched nervously as the officer inspected the nothing that was printed on them. After a moment, the officer nodded and handed them back to Alyssa.

"Going up to Willoughby, eh? I hear it's nice this time of year."

Alyssa just smiled politely.

"Well," the officer said, adjusting his cap, "Keep an eye on this one, then." He gave them a curt nod and strode off to another part of the platform.

Alyssa sighed. Argus rubbed his sore forehead and looked up at his mother.

"Sorry, Mum… what did I do wrong?"

Alyssa shook her head. "Maybe there were just too many Muggles nearby, Gussy. Let's try it again, together." They both took hold of the trolley handle, and at his mother's say so, they strode forward towards the pillar. Alyssa took his hand at the last minute, and they passed into the pillar. Argus felt like he was pushing his way through a column of sand or thick mud. Finally they were on the other side, and dozens of people were bustling about – not bored-faced Muggles checking wristwatches and reading newspapers, but other witches and wizards, kids his age and proud parents seeing them off on the start of their magical journey.

Argus smiled. This was the beginning of his own adventure, too.

* * *

><p>Once his belongings were properly stowed and he said goodbye to his teary-eyed mother ("You <em>will<em> write to me once a week, won't you? Oh, promise me, Gussy!"), Argus boarded the Hogwarts Express and looked for a compartment to sit in.

"First Years in the back!" an older boy shouted, laughing and pushing past Argus and slamming a door shut in his face. Argus frowned and made his way along the length of the train. He came to a compartment that only had one other occupant so far, a girl that looked to be his own age. He poked his head in through the doorway.

"Hello," he said, and the girl turned her gaze from the window to look at him. "Are any of these seats taken?"

She shook her head and smiled, so he entered the compartment and took the seat opposite of her. Not sure what else to do, he sat quietly and looked out the window, watching the steam from the train billow through the trees. He could see the girl casting glances at him in the reflection of the window. He wondered what it was about him that she kept looking at – maybe he had a smudge of his mum's lipstick on his face? Argus briskly rubbed his cheek (just in case) and turned to look at the girl.

"My name's Edwina," she said. She smiled again.

"Oh. I'm Argus," he replied. He didn't know what else to say, but she was looking at him expectantly, so he asked, "Are you excited about going to school?"

_What a dumb question,_ Argus berated himself, but the girl nodded with enthusiasm.

"Yes, very! This is all so new to me, and—"

At that moment, a burly man with a round, childish face burst into their compartment. "Firs' years in th' back!" he complained, his voice oddly high-pitched for a person his size. "Migh' as well tie me to th' roof, woulda been easier climbin' up than squeezin' through all them corridors."

He plopped down on the bench next to Argus, who gaped at the newcomer.

"Y-you're not a first year, are you?" Edwina asked incredulously, her eyes wide.

"What are you!" Argus shouted, with slightly less tact.

"Eh? Ne'er seen a half-giant before, have yeh?" The oversized boy grinned. "Me mum was a giantess, dad's a wizard. Wasn't sure I'd be getting' an acceptance letter at all, on account o' my mixed blood, but here I am, off ta Hogwarts!" He gestured widely with his enormous hands, accidentally smacking Argus in the face. Argus let out a cry of pain and squirmed off the bench, rubbing his already sore forehead. He frowned at the half-giant and took a seat next to Edwina instead.

"Sorry 'bout that," the boy said with a guilty frown. "I'm not used ta such close quarters. Name's Hagrid, by the way." He held out his enormous hand. Edwina laughed as Hagrid shook her entire arm in greeting. "I'm Edwina," she giggled, "and this is Argus." Hagrid offered his hand to Argus next, but Argus shrank back from it, as though being proffered a giant spider. Hagrid dropped his hand back to his side.

"Nice to meet you," Argus said, not wanting to be entirely impolite.

Just then, the train whistle blew, and the compartment lurched forward. The faces on the platform began to blur together, and they were finally on their way to Hogwarts.


	2. Sorted and Settled

Chapter 2: Sorted and Settled

* * *

><p>At long last the train began to slow, and a pleasant disembodied voice announced that they would be arriving at Hogsmeade station in five minutes time. An older boy wearing a silver badge on his chest poked his head into their compartment and suggested that they ought to change into their school robes. Argus and Edwina quickly pulled their robes on over their heads; Hagrid, however, managed to get himself lost and entangled within the copious folds of black fabric. It took a concerted effort from Edwina and Argus to keep Hagrid calm and to help him properly readjust his robe. The train suddenly came to a stop and all three were thrown to one side of the compartment.<p>

"We're here!" Hagrid beamed cheerily, righting himself and pulling the others to their feet. Argus and Edwina joined the throng of students eagerly departing onto the small, dimly-lit platform.

"First years!" bellowed a short, sturdy-looking man standing nearby. He had a severe underbite that showed off his bottom row of tiny, pointed teeth and reminded Argus of an English bulldog. The man was holding up a large lantern that gave his face an eerie glow.

"First years, this way! Over here, follow me. First years!"

"Wait fer me!" Hagrid called out, still squeezing his way out of the train car.

The man with the lantern goggled as Hagrid rushed to meet the circle of first years, knocking a smaller boy down in the process.

"Sorry, sorry," Hagrid said, lifting the boy back up by his robes, grinning merrily. The man gaped for a minute, then remembered the task at hand.

"Right. I'm Ogg. I'll be showing ya to the castle. Follow close, and watch your step."

He then led the group of first years down a steep and narrow path that wound through a strip of ancient forest. Just as Argus was beginning to think that there was no end to the trees, the path widened and emptied onto the rocky shore of an enormous lake.

On the far side Argus could see a large stone castle, its spires glowing from the rays of the setting sun. He recognized it immediately from his visit over the summer, and his stomach fluttered with excitement.

"All right, into the boats now," Ogg instructed. "Only four per boat – don't push!"

Argus held the side of one boat steady while Edwina climbed in, then clambered over the edge himself. He looked around at the other first years splashing and rocking and laughing as they picked their vessels. Argus glanced behind him and saw only two figures left standing on the shore: Ogg and Hagrid.

"Go on," Ogg said, gesturing Hagrid forward with a swing of the lantern.

Hagrid gulped and took careful steps toward the water's edge. The other boats being full, he approached Argus and Edwina.

"I don' care much fer water," Hagrid muttered, his face pale, as his large hands gripped the side of the boat and he swung his leg over. Argus felt the boat sink further into the pebble beach with a crunch. Hagrid was clenching the edge of the boat tightly and glancing at the dark water with dread in his eyes.

"All set? FORWARD!" Ogg barked from the shore, and together the first years drifted out onto the lake.

An early evening breeze rippled across the water, making little insects dance and flit about the surface of the lake. Argus spotted two owls soaring and swooping high above them. It would have been a truly idyllic moment, if not for the whimpered groans emanating from the rear of the boat.

"Are you all right, Hagrid?" Edwina asked, concerned; the half-giant boy had his eyes closed and his bottom lip was trembling slightly.

"Jus' don' like floatin' – and not knowin' what's beneath me," he grumbled.

Some of the other children were busy splashing water at each other, and a few of the boys were tossing in rocks they had taken from the shore. Suddenly, something large leapt from the water, somersaulted, and plunged back into the watery depths. The first years all gasped; a few even applauded.

"What was that!" Edwina exclaimed. "Did you see it!"

"It looked like a… a fish person!" Argus concluded.

Edwina's eyes brightened with wonder. "You mean there are mermaids here?"

"And bloody giant squids too, I bet," Hagrid moaned and buried his face in his hands.

The boats were soon approaching the cliff on which the castle stood. Argus was wondering how exactly they were supposed to climb up, when the boats passed through a curtain of ivy and entered a subterranean cavern. They continued on until they reached a little stone harbor, where Ogg was patiently awaiting their arrival, lantern in hand. He led them up a steep and slippery stairway carved into the rock, and soon they found themselves above ground once again, in the shadow of the castle.

Ogg brought the first years up a flight of stone steps and to an enormous wooden door, the largest Argus had ever seen. He felt a bit silly, being in awe of a door, but he could see his look of wonder mirrored in the faces of the other children. When he had come to Hogwarts over the summer, he and his mother had travelled by Floo powder; Argus was beginning to realize just how little of the castle he had gotten to see.

Ogg rapped on the door three times with his fist. It swung open, and they passed into an enormous entrance hall; even Hagrid seemed minute against the towering stone pillars, and the light from the torches that lit the room did not seem to reach the ceiling. A tall wizard with a long silver beard and half-moon spectacles was waiting for them in front of a set of large double doors. Argus could hear the murmur of voices on the other side.

"All accounted for," Ogg said with a curt nod, and he stomped back out through the main doorway with his lantern.

"Good evening," the wizard said, smiling as he surveyed the nervous crowd of first years. "I am Albus Dumbledore, Deputy Headmaster and Professor of Transfiguration. I would like to officially welcome all of you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. So… welcome." He adjusted the glasses on his crooked nose, making them twinkle in the torchlight.

"Before we join your fellow students for the great feast, each of you must first be sorted into a House. The four Houses are Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin – each has its own proud traditions and has produced many noteworthy witches and wizards, so to be sorted into any one of these four houses should be considered a great honor. You will spend the next seven years among the members of your house, learning together and growing together, very much like a family. Do not be afraid to seek help and friendship from your housemates – every one of them has been standing where you are today, an inexperienced young mind with a future of possibilities before you.

"The Sorting Ceremony shall proceed through these doors, before the rest of the school. Again, I bid you welcome, and best of luck to each of you. Now please, form a line and follow me."

Professor Dumbledore waved his hand and the large double doors leading into the Great Hall opened before him. The hall was filled with chatter, and Argus could see many heads turning to observe the nervous march of first years following the Deputy Headmaster to the dais at the front of the room. Here the floor was raised and set with a long banquet table where several adults were sitting – teachers, Argus assumed.

The rest of the dining hall was taken up by four long rows of tables, filled with students. An ornate banner hung over each row, each a different color and depicting an animal – a snake, a raven, a badger, and a lion. Dumbledore gestured for the first years to wait where they stood; he then stepped over to a podium and tapped the edge with his wand. The noise in the Great Hall soon quieted to a whisper, and Dumbledore waved his wand elaborately in the air. An object appeared before him, floating in the air.

Argus was baffled. It looked to be a very ancient, dilapidated wizard's hat; its pointed tip was bent and the edges of its wide brim were fraying. Was this part of the Sorting Ceremony? Argus wondered. What were they supposed to do, pull their House names out of the decaying hat? Dumbledore bowed and took a step back.

Someone cleared his throat loudly, and silence fell upon the room. A voice began to speak, in a cheery sing-song manner:

_Another year already here?_  
><em>I welcome all back to this Hall<em>  
><em>my friends, dear students, each of you<em>  
><em>whose head has sat beneath this Hat.<em>  
><em>But now awaits, unknown their fates,<em>  
><em>another batch to meet their match,<em>  
><em>so sit a spell and I will tell<em>  
><em>which House shall they call home today.<em>

There was a brief pause; the hat at the podium turned and tipped itself at the line of first years, its brim curved into what looked like a smile. Argus gaped as the Hat continued its rhyme:

_If Slytherin's where they fit in,_  
><em>A cunning mind will always find<em>  
><em>the tools it needs to render deeds –<em>  
><em>manipulating's in their traits.<em>

_In Ravenclaw, true wit is law,_  
><em>where wisdom, learning both concern<em>  
><em>pursuit of knowledge and recall,<em>  
><em>great intellect and much respect.<em>

_For Gryffindors, the heart will roar_  
><em>with courage; who, with daring, do<em>  
><em>so bravely act with proudest tact,<em>  
><em>and seek adventure as a friend.<em>

_With Hufflepuff, what's good enough_  
><em>is being just; another must<em>  
><em>is loyalty; who patiently<em>  
><em>deem working hard with high regard.<em>

_Of Houses four, there is much lore_  
><em>of how the Founders, much renowned,<em>  
><em>did gather those with magic, chose<em>  
><em>to teach their skill; they yet instill<em>  
><em>that vital rule, that Hogwarts School<em>  
><em>shall house the youth and offer truth<em>  
><em>to those who hold the keys of old –<em>  
><em>the ancestry of wizardry.<em>

The Hall broke into applause as Dumbledore approached the now-limp hat and grasped it by its pointed end.

"When I call your name, please approach the podium to be Sorted," the Deputy Headmaster told the first years. A parchment scroll appeared in front of him and unrolled itself. "Bones, Barrett," Dumbledore announced; a boy cautiously stepped out of the line of first years and approached the professor.

Argus was relieved not to be chosen first, and he watched eagerly to see what the Sorting process involved. The Bones boy looked up inquisitively at the Deputy Headmaster; Dumbledore smiled and dropped the Hat onto the boy's head.

After a few moments, a gash in the hat opened like a mouth and shouted "Hufflepuff!" There was polite applause as the boy was directed to the row of tables beneath the badger banner.

Argus realized he had been holding his breath, which he let out with a sigh of relief. He certainly had expected the Sorting Ceremony to be much worse than wearing a silly talking hat on his head for a few moments.

Other children were called forward to don the Hat, and were sent off to sit with their respective Houses; Argus noted that they were proceeding in order of last name, and it wasn't long before he heard Professor Dumbledore announce, "Filch, Argus."

Argus approached the podium, and even though he knew there was nothing to worry about, his heart started beating rapidly. The tattered hat was comically large – as it was placed on his head, it slid down over his ears and past his eyes, so that all Argus could see was the frayed stitching of the Hat's lining.

"Whisper," a voice said.

What? thought Argus. Did someone just whisper 'whisper' into his ear?

"Yes, a whisper," the voice reiterated. It seemed to be coming from the Hat itself.

"Very faint," the Hat continued, "but no matter. Character is what I judge, the strength of one's ambitions. What is it that you desire most, my boy?"

I want to be a great wizard, Argus thought.

"A bold desire indeed," the Hat replied. "But how do you wish to become great?"

How? Argus considered for a moment. I suppose I want to work my hardest and learn all that I can, to make my mother proud of who I am.

"A very noble aspiration," commended the Hat. "In that case, I think you'll do best in HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat concluded, announcing the House name to the entire Hall. The Hat was removed from Argus's head and he was directed to a row of tables where the older children all wore ties of black and gold. They smiled at him and patted his shoulders as he took a seat.

Soon after, Professor Dumbledore called out "Hagrid, Rubeus," and Argus took his eyes away from the enchanted ceiling for a moment to watch the half-giant boy get Sorted. There was much murmuring as Hagrid approached the podium – he head was level with Dumbledore's shoulder, and the Professor had trouble fitting the Hat on over Hagrid's head of thick wiry hair.

"Gryffindor!" the Hat cried out; Dumbledore beamed and directed Hagrid towards the appropriate table. The half-giant boy took a seat at one end of a bench; the two girls at the other end shrieked as they found themselves lifting off the ground and sliding down the seat towards the first-year counterweight. Hagrid stood up at once, eliciting more shrieks as well as a few laughs as the bench clattered back down to the floor. "Sorry 'bout that," Hagrid mumbled, his face red as he shuffled towards the center of the bench. The wood groaned as he sat, inspiring another round of laughter from students nearby.

The Deputy Headmaster continued with the administering of the hat, and Argus let his attention drift. A cheerily plump ghost was drifting its way down the Hufflepuff table, smiling amiably and waving at the students with the hand that wasn't holding a half-eaten, incorporeal turkey leg. There were ghosts floating around the other House tables as well, although they were difficult to discern in the candlelight.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat cried again; Argus joined his Housemates in applauding as a red-haired boy approached their table. The boy seemed to be looking for someone at one of the other House tables, Argus noticed – someone he met on the train, maybe? Something less than pleasant must have caught his eye, because the redhead sat down abruptly, a slight frown on his face, and he now seemed intent on studying the wood grain pattern of the table.

As Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins continued to cheer their newly-sorted brethren, Argus's mind began to wander. It was only when Dumbledore pronounced "Norris, Edwina" as the next to be sorted that Argus's attention returned to the Sorting.

Edwina took her place under the Hat and after only a brief moment was declared "Hufflepuff!" She bounded merrily towards the table where Argus was sitting. "Hi again," she said with a smile.

A few more first-years joined them at the Hufflepuff table, and at last the Sorting was concluded. Dumbledore waved his wand to vanish the Hat and retreated to the faculty table as another wizard approached the podium; Argus recognized Armando Dippet at once.

"Greetings to you, first years," the Headmaster said with a magnanimous smile, "and welcome back to the rest of you. I know it has been a long and eventful trip for all of you, so as Headmaster, it is my esteemed privilege to say to you: Let us eat!"

The tables were suddenly filled with all manner of delicious foods, and the students, young and old, gorged themselves to their hearts' content.

As the desserts course appeared and Argus was busy trying to determine how he might fit a slice of both blueberry and pecan pie into his already bulging stomach, Headmaster Dippet stepped to the podium again.

"I hope you have all gotten enough to eat this wonderful evening."

There was a murmur of general consensus at this; Hagrid let out a burp of affirmation that echoed through the Hall.

"Permit me to make a few short announcements: • No students are permitted to enter the forest surrounding the castle at any time, unless under explicit instruction and supervision by a member of the teaching staff. • Any students in the fifth year or above who are interested in taking the Advanced Aquatic Herbology course should discuss the matter with Professor Beery and your Head of House. • The dates and times of the House Quidditch team try-outs will be posted in your Common Rooms no sooner and no later than Monday the 9th, see Madame Hooch for guidelines. • The ever-popular _Lady Lisbeth's Guide to Erogenous Enchantments and Illicit Incantations_ has now been permanently removed from the library, so stop requesting it. • And, as always, no spell-casting in the hallways, unless you enjoy hanging by your thumbs in the detention rooms. Now, off to bed with all of you. Prefects, please lead your first years to their dormitories."

Dismissed, the students of Hogwarts streamed out of the Great Hall; a friendly-looking girl with a silver badge pinned to her cloak gathered the new Hufflepuffs together. She put her hands on her hips and surveyed her cete of first-years with a smile. "Welcome to the clan, little Hufflepuffs. My name is Calla, I'm a sixth-year student, and I love Herbology. This," she said, pointing to her badge – it had the letter P and a small badger on it – "means that I am here to help you if you have any questions, or if you get lost, or if you just need someone to talk to. Each House has six Prefects, and any one of us will be glad to point you in the right direction. If there's something we can do for you, just ask."

A hand shot up into the air; it belonged to a first-year boy with sandy-blond hair.

"Yes?" Calla asked him.

"Will you do my homework for me?" the boy said, a bright and charming grin on his face.

"Nice try," she conceded, "but I'm afraid we're not allowed to be _that_ helpful. So, let's get everyone's names, shall we?"

There were seven of them in all: Mildred, with golden yellow hair and a sunny smile; Rufus, the red-head; the Bones boy, who preferred to be called Barry, not Barrett; Irma, who barely spoke above a whisper; Spenser, the one who asked Calla to do his homework; Edwina, his friend from the train; and Argus himself.

Calla waved the group forward. "All right, now follow me, and I'll show you the way to the dorms. And keep close," she warned, "it's easy to get lost here."

They wove their way through clumps of students mingling in the entrance hall as others were headed off to bed. Those wearing blue or red ties ascended the enormous marble staircase, while students with green or yellow ties were descending down on either side.

"Don't we all stay in the same part of the castle?" Mildred asked.

Calla shook her head. "The Ravenclaw and Gryffindor dormitories are up in the towers. Ours and Slytherin are down in the dungeons."

"The dungeons?" Barry whined as they headed downstairs, a dismayed look on his face.

Calla grinned at him. "I thought the same thing when I first came here. But it's not as bad as you think – just wait, you'll see."

They turned down a hallway and approached a large painting of a bowl of fruit. Argus heard an odd noise coming from further down the corridor; it sounded like metal clinking together in a haphazard fashion, like some sort of complex whirring machinery. There was also a faint smell of something delicious that Argus couldn't quite name.

"What's that sound?" asked Irma, her curiosity momentarily overwhelming her shyness.

Calla listened for a moment. "Oh, that. You're hearing the kitchens, which are further down this hallway – don't get any ideas, the Headmaster's done all sorts of spells to keep students from sneaking in there. Anyway, this is the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room and dormitories. All you have to do is say the password – right now, it's "perseverance" – and then pull down on the banana, like this."

Calla reached into the painting and pivoted the banana downwards like a door handle, and the whole painting swung forward, revealing the doorway behind it. She ushered the first years in ahead of her and stepped through; the painting automatically swung shut behind her.

The room they were now standing in was unlike any Argus had ever seen. The low-hanging ceiling and curved walls were made of roughly-hewn stone, and there were numerous bookshelves as well as an enormous fireplace carved directly into the rock. Bronze wall sconces with elaborate floral designs held torches that lit up the room. Plump little black-and-yellow armchairs dotted the room, a number of them occupied with older students who smiled at the captivated first years. The Hufflepuff badger motif was everywhere – on tapestries, in the carpet, carved into the bookshelves. It was a warm and cozy and earthy place, like an animal's burrow – something about it made Argus feel very comfortable and safe.

"This is the common room, or The Sett as we call it. You can relax and study here when you don't have class."

"Isn't it dangerous to have all these torches around?" Edwina asked with a tinge of nervousness. Argus thought it a strange question until he remembered that Edwina was Muggle-born.

"They're perfectly safe – they're lit with witchfire, a type of magic that won't burn you or give off smoke. You have them in your dorms as well – to light them, just say '_Fac Ignis_,' and to put them out, the spell is '_Nullus Ignis_' – although just blowing them out works too.

"The dorms are located underneath the greenhouses, so during the day sunlight filters in through special glass panels in the ceiling. Don't worry," Calla added, "they're bewitched so no one can see through them." She gave the boys an admonitory look.

"Anyway, these tunnels lead up to the separate dormitories. Boys, you're in the first room down the righthand corridor. Girls, follow me."

Edwina gave Argus a quick wave as the group split off and headed to their rooms.

"Glad I'm not claustrophobic," Rufus remarked as he led the way up the narrow hallway. Argus wondered for a moment what would have happened if Hagrid had been sorted into Hufflepuff too – he never would have fit through such a small passageway. Would they have made him sleep in the common room?

The boys came to their doorway – it was perfectly round, and fitted with a door that looked like an over-sized barrel lid. There was a large wooden knob in the center; Rufus grabbed it and pulled, but it didn't budge. He shrugged.

"Dunno, maybe it's locked or something. Someone else try it."

Argus took a step forward and pulled as hard as he could. The door remained impassive.

"Maybe it's enchanted, like the fruit bowl portrait," Argus suggested.

"What, and we're just supposed to guess the password? That's a bit unfair," Barry complained, giving the door a swift kick for good measure.

"Hmm," Spenser mused, scratching his chin as he scrutinized the situation. He leaned forward and pressed his ear to the door, tapping his knuckles lightly against the wood. He stood up and eyed the perimeter of the doorway, then nodded to himself.

"Stand aside, gents," he instructed them in a serious tone. "This is a task for a _true_ wizard."

The other boys exchanged glances as Spenser took up a stance before the door and touched the tips of his middle fingers to his temples. He then closed his eyes and began a chant-like hum. Then, without warning, he clapped his hands together loudly, startling the other three, and shouted, "Open sesame!" He reached for the knob, yanked it sideways, and the door rolled aside to reveal the room beyond.

"Ta-daa!" he said, flourishing his hand as he took a deep bow. He held the pose for a long moment before straightening back up with a frown. "What, no applause?"

Argus gave him two half-hearted claps, while Barry rolled his eyes and Rufus snorted.

"Tough crowd," Spenser muttered.

Argus followed the other boys into their bed chamber; he saw that his trunk was already settled at the foot of one of the four beds in the room. Lying on his pillow was a neatly-folded gold and black tie, with a note card resting beside it. He picked up the card and read:

* * *

><p><em>Dear Argus,<em>

_Welcome to Hufflepuff, home to centuries of dedicated wizards and witches who have believed in the virtues of fairness, patience, and truth. I know you'll make a wonderful addition to our House and its long-standing traditions of loyalty and industriousness._

_You will receive your schedule of courses for the year at breakfast tomorrow morning. Please arrive no later than 0830. Classes begin promptly at 0900. I look forward to meeting you and helping you discover your magical talents._

_Sincerely Charmed,_

_Amibelle Captiva_  
><em>Head of Hufflepuff House<em>

* * *

><p>"Amibelle Captiva," Barry read aloud from his letter. "I wonder which one she was."<p>

"She's the pretty one with curly blonde hair," Rufus said, folding his note back up and tucking it in its envelope. "My sister Olive says she's an awful teacher, but I think she's just jealous 'cause she always wanted to have blonde hair, but our parents won't let her transfigure hers. Anyway, I figure she must be pretty nice, to be Head of Hufflepuff."

"Yeah, all the mean ones are from Slytherin, aren't they?" said Spenser.

"Generally. Though Olive's always raving about Professor Slughorn and what a genius he is. I think she fancies him."

They all made disgusted faces at the word 'fancies', then burst out laughing. Spenser pulled off his robes and tossed them in a heap at the foot of his bed, then kicked off his shoes and flopped down onto his mattress.

"Aren't you going to put your clothes away?" Argus said before he could stop himself.

Spenser gave him an incredulous look. "That's what house elves are for, isn't it? Hogwarts has loads of 'em, they go around at night, neaten your things and wash your clothes for you."

"Yeah, no more Mum telling you to clean your room," Barry said as he unceremoniously dumped his clothes on the ground.

Argus glanced at Rufus, who gave his clothes a tentative nudge off the edge of his bed.

"My mother always said that a tidy room is a happy room," Argus countered haughtily as he primly folded up his robes.

"But think of the poor house elves, Argus," Spenser implored. "Serving their wizard masters is all they live for! You're depriving some poor elf of the joy of laundering your smelly socks."

Argus pursed his lips in consideration. "Well…" he said, reluctantly, "I guess if they really want my dirty socks…." He stripped them off his feet and dropped them onto the floor. He was surprised by his own audacity, and secretly relieved that his mother wasn't around to chastise him.

"Well done, Argus," Spenser said with an approving nod. "The elves will be so grateful."

Barry meanwhile was busy digging for something in his trunk, tossing aside clothing and books in his search. He pulled a picture frame triumphantly out of the depths and set it on his nightstand. He gave the photo a sigh of longing.

"What's that?" Spenser asked, leaning over to get a better look.

Barry picked it up and showed them. It was a photograph of a red and white Irish Setter, who was bounding playfully within the frame.

"It's my dog, Barclay. Wish I could've brought him with me… Any of you have pets?"

Argus shook his head. He thought animals made just too much of a mess, but he decided not to tell the other boys that.

"I wanted to get an owl," Rufus said with a glum look, "but my parents said I could just borrow my sister's if I needed to. Olive told me she'd charge 5 knuts for every letter."

"Dad bought me a goldfish to bring along, but Auntie Cass predicted it wouldn't survive a week," recounted Spenser. "Sure enough, it was belly up the day before yesterday, so we fed it to the owl who brought our post. Auntie Cass is right about everything."

As the other boys chatted about home, Argus folded his clothes for the following day and set them neatly on top of his trunk. He then placed the yellow and black tie carefully at the top of the pile and smiled.

He was finally here, at Hogwarts, he had new friends, and tomorrow he was going to learn how to use magic. It was the best day of his life, and he was sure that it was only going to get better.

Before long, Argus and the other boys each blew out the candles on their nightstands, and went to sleep.


End file.
